


The Book

by Flyboyfan23



Series: Hidden Pasts [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22402216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyboyfan23/pseuds/Flyboyfan23
Summary: Connie was a huge reader from 'Before", Daryl not so much. So, when Connie stumbles upon Daryl's personal items, she's surprised to find a book amidst all of the survival gear. Although, maybe you could consider the book necessary for survival as well.This is based off a prompt I was given by kindnesswithpeopletreat. Thanks for the motivation!
Series: Hidden Pasts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681867
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	The Book

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to kindnesswithpeopletreat for the great prompt! 
> 
> *This takes place in an slightly AO where Daryl managed to keep hold of the book that he found while looking for Beth with Carol. The book in the shelter house, remember?

Connie was a big reader. That had been the best form of entertainment even before everything had started, in her opinion. Movies, while still fun, were a bit lack-luster when you could not hear what was happening. The annoying moments when someone would be talking off screen took away her option of lip-reading were infuriating and much of the time the subtitles lost something in translation. Sure, Connie was good at filling in the blanks- she had to be. Piecing together the holes in the plot together but that’s what made books so amazing. 

Her imagination would soar as she read each new word. She didn’t miss a single sentence, a single thought, or plot development due to someone’s poor transcription. Every moment was captured, considered, and savored. It was whole. 

Which was why, apart from safety, food, shelter, and community, Connie was beyond thrilled to be in Hilltop. Luke had collected his instruments throughout their journeys. Scrambling to care and protect for each one, no matter how simple they were- like a child’s recorder that apparently annoyed her companions to no end. Carrying the items with them for as long as he possibly could, Luke had dragged his passion along with the group. Connie hadn’t. 

She had had a book once or twice, throughout the years after it all had started. She had even had a small collection to enjoy during their stay at the last community but the constant threat of walkers tearing through the rather-weak walls had overshadowed the novelty. Here though, in Hilltop, everything seemed quiet- for now. Yes, there was now the danger of an insane group of humans. Poising as the freaks, walking with them, living with them, and killing with them. This world truly drove some people mad. Despite it all, Connie was able to relax. To let her guard down. These walls were thick and strong and this community had many more people than before. It seemed like they could handle themselves. 

It was night. So long into the night that everyone but those on watch had gone to bed. Kelly and the others were asleep in the trailer that they had been given. A temporary shelter until permanent arrangements could be made. Exhaustion had pulled them under almost immediately but Connie had been unable to sleep. Her mind somehow racing with thoughts and yet not focusing on a single concern- at least enough to keep her awake with worry. She just couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the strange place or the full moon that was shining through the window. Connie gave up after a couple hours. A few books had sat in the trailer on a small table next to the cot. Connie had only glanced at them so she wasn’t even sure what they were but they were something. Grabbing the one on the top of the stack and a flashlight, she slipped through the door and into the chilly night. 

She moved silently (she hoped) without the aid of the flashlight- not wanting to bring any suspicion upon herself and ruin everything for the rest of them- especially Kelly. Looking for an empty, sheltered place to read Connie slipped into the barn which seemed void of both humans and animals at the moment. Deciding it was safe enough at this point, she switched on the hand-held light. It cast odd shadows on the walls as she moved, catching on every nook and cranny. If she were to focus on them, Connie was sure that she would see walkers lurking within the dark. It had happened a lot in the earlier years of Before. She was used to it now. Her constantly adrenaline-charged mind would look for danger even when it wasn’t there. There was something about the dark that did that- some lingering threat that wasn’t truly there and yet your subconscious was certain it was. 

Connie walked steadily through the barn, scanning her options of a hopefully comfortable nook. Most of the space was loaded with supplies. It almost all looked to be farm equipment but one stall seemed to be set aside for food storage. Three racks of metal shelving were placed along each wall- and each was rather sparse. Glass canning jars had been negated to one shelf, completely empty, and the other two only held a meager number, considering the amount of people she had already seen, of cans and sealed containers. Despite the size of supplies, there was a vast array of options. Vegetables, beans, and fruits. Connie wasn’t even sure the last time she had even eaten fruit. Any berries found in the woods had been avoided since none of them knew how to tell the difference between harmless and poisoned. The temptation to snatch a can of peaches- a snack for her late-night reading, was strong but Connie refrained. Best not to risk getting caught out this late and stealing food. 

Continuing her search, Connie came to the conclusion that she had two choices. There was an empty stall in the very back of the barn or the hayloft. She chose the stable after taking a closer look at the hayloft. It was nearly empty of all hay and multiple construction supplies were scattered around it. Rotting boards were half-pulled up- it was definitely not someplace she was going to trust just yet. Maybe once they were finished. She wasn’t a big fan of heights, anyways.  
Moving quietly, Connie slipped into the stall only to stop in her tracks as she saw what was within. She had seen the motorcycle parked just outside of the space- pointed towards the entrance, prepared for a quick get-away. But it was the straw within had been pushed around, piled in a heap in the very back, that told her that someone had been sleeping here. Nestled within the brittle bedding. A horse blanket- now deemed for the use of a person, was laid out along with an old sleeping bag. They were somehow crumpled haphazardly and yet had clearly been stretched out as a bed. A collection of bolts were sticking out the satchel that hung off the side of the bike though the crossbow was gone. No doubt with it’s owner. 

All of Daryl’s belongings seemed to be within the stall but he was no where to be seen. Neither was Dog. Maybe, the pair were out on watch. Daryl didn’t seem the type to sleep much. He could be having the same struggle as her and had decided to find something else to do than lay in bed just to stare at the shadows. 

Whichever it was, Connie knew not to linger. She wasn’t afraid of the surly man. She knew she could handle herself, but it was clear that he was someone who valued his privacy. Beginning to turn away, she stopped when another possession, one that she would have never expected, caught her attention. A book. It was laying halfway under the blanket. 

Curiosity kept Connie from turning away- leaving the mystery unsolved and returning to her bed. What kind of book would have caught the eye of Daryl Dixon? He did not seem to be much of a reader. In fact, he seemed the type to have only read a handful of books in his life. His ragged appearance and cobbled together bike screamed redneck. Connie chided herself for judging by appearance though she highly doubted that she was wrong. Before she was aware of it herself, she was shuffling forward, the straw shifting beneath her feet. 

The book was in rough shape. The back cover had been torn off. The pages were crumpled and yellow with water-stains. What looked to be dried blood colored a corner of the cover. The item had clearly been through some intense situations which only spoke of the intense situations that the owner had found himself in. Connie took all of this in within seconds but it was the title that she found herself looking at twice- and then again, and again. 

‘Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse’

The five words alone told Connie more than would probably ever know about the redneck. It spoke of pain and horror. Of a lack of love- or of too much, unhealthy, abusive love. Maybe both. One of the pages was dog-eared- the sight alone making Connie queasy. Though, considering the state of the book as a whole, what was a wrinkled page really going to matter? The marking told her that Daryl had not gotten far with his reading, at all- which wasn’t surprising. From what she had gathered, the man had been living alone in the woods for awhile- well, almost alone. Dog seemed to have been enough company for him. Daylight had, no doubt, been focused on surviving. Hunting, fishing- all the stuff that needed to happen to make it another day. The risk of a lantern or fire, one that was bright enough to read by, was not worth risking death. 

But neither was this. Daryl did not seem a cold-blooded killer to Connie, though she had been fooled before. He struck her as someone who carried a surly attitude each day but was nothing but good-hearted underneath. No matter if she was right or not, Connie knew not to linger anymore. She was just about to turn around when a callused hand landed on her shoulder. The touch took her by surprise, enough to have her spinning around and lashing out- having dropped the book. Her fist was tight and aimed for standard head-height. The glance of dark, greasy hair was enough to give her an idea of who had touched her. 

But Daryl was quick. Ducking, he slipped under her arm. Pushing her to the side, he stepped out of her reach though she was still in his, all while keeping between her and the barn door. Dog was beside him. He was not barking, since his mouth was closed but his head was down and tail erect. The warning was clear. Don’t mess with my human. 

“Wha’ ya doin’ here?” Daryl demanded, crossbow hanging from one hand though it was not cocked and his fingers were limp. She wasn’t a threat enough that he was concerned about killing her- yet. It was then that he saw the book that had fallen from her hands, now laying in the straw at her feet. “Goin’ through-” 

Connie lost track of his words as he bent down to snatch up the item. It was a stupid move, exposing himself to further attack but his emotions were heightened. That or he was relying upon Dog to protect him. Judging by the sharp eye that the canine still had on her, it wasn’t a bad assumption. 

“- got no r’ght.” Thankfully, Connie was quite sufficient at reading lips otherwise she would never have followed the man’s words. Anger had him talking fast which made the communication even harder. “Got half a mind ta-” And Connie lost sight of his lips once more as he stalked around her to throw the book into the back of the stall. It hit the wooden wall and fell to the ground. Apparently the violent motion hadn’t been loud enough for anyone to be concerned because no one appeared in the doorway. 

Connie waited until the man had rounded back upon her, nostrils flared and face slightly red. In his line of sight again, she began to apologize, fingers automatically moving to sign the appropriate words even as she mouthed the same statement and exaggerated her expression- all in attempt to get her point across. The situation reminded her to ask for a notepad and pen as soon as possible. She hadn’t needed one out there. Her group had learned at lot about sign language in their time together and if they couldn’t follow, Kelly had always been there. Kelly was not here though, throwing Connie back into the frustrating world where she was unable to communicate in the same way as everyone else. She was like a foreign language speaker in a land not her own. 

But Daryl seemed to get the idea, his expression twisting into that of a scoff. He turned his head away again but his lips came back into sight line as he spoke. “Nah. Don’t care if ya can’t ‘ear none,” Connie assumed he had a strong accent of some sort, his lips barely moved and seemed to enunciate in different points of the sentence than the speakers had in her area of the country. It made it a bit harder to read but Connie was nothing, if not self-sufficient. It just meant she had to pay a bit more attention. “Ya should know not ta sulk ‘bout at nigh’ and go thr’gh people’s stuff.” 

He glanced down at her hands. She still held her own book in her left along with the flashlight. “- some edjucat’d type? Bet ya real smart. Not smart ‘nough to stay outta wha ya got no b’sinuss in.” 

Connie allowed him to continue to rant. His anger was flared and in this state he was never going to take the time to figure out what she was trying to say. 

“Ya, wanna see it all?! Tha gonna make ya happy?!” Daryl spun around again, this time ripping the satchel from his bike and dumping the contents onto the ground. A cast iron pot, collection of cigarette boxes, rope and twine all fell out along with a vast collection of knives and bolts. The other side of the bike had another bag, which looked full as well, but Daryl seemed to think his point was made and didn’t grab that one too. 

“- else ya figure out, huh?” Daryl sneered. He paid no attention as he took a few steps forward, haphazardly kicking some of the scattered items. “Ya fig’re out tha it were my pa tha whip’ped me good? Or tha m’ uncle took a lik’n ta lil boys?” He paled at that, clearly having said more than he had planned on. 

His teeth were bared and Connie got the impression that he was now growling- like a cornered animal. “Ya best get-” He turned away, retreating further into the stall before kneeling to the ground. Rough hands were shaking with anger as he started to collect his things once more. The tremble was small, so small that most people would not have even noticed, but Connie relied heavily on physical cues so she did. 

She should just walk away. Go back to bed, pretend the whole thing never happened and pray that the fallout wasn’t that bad. To hope that Daryl wasn’t the type to have them kicked out over this. Dog had slipped around her once his master had knelt again, sitting in one of the corners- watching her. Instead of taking the cue, the opportunity to escape, Connie shuffled forward. 

The redneck flinched as she placed a hand gently onto his shoulder though he did not turn to swing at her so Connie continued. Pushing his shoulder back, just enough to prompt him into looking up, she caught his eye- holding it despite the fire within them. Once more she twisted her features, mouthed the words, though she chose to forgo the sign language that paired with her sentiment. Daryl would not have understood them anyways. She was relying heavily upon her expression, hoping that her eyes alone would make her intent clear. 

“I’m sorry, for this and for that.” 

Daryl’s features twisted and he turned away quickly, shrugging her hand off- but not before she felt his chest vibrate. Assuming the unseen sentence was a dismissal, Connie left the barn. She was not longer in the mood to read, though now she had another thing to keep her awake. Moving back towards the trailer, Connie figured she might as well lay in bed while she pondered the redneck and the personal revelations that she had stumbled upon. 

Setting the book down on the bedside table once more, Connie huffed. “The Science of Agriculture” would not have likely held her attention anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is. Hope you enjoyed the little snippet. I'm always a season behind on Walking Dead, so I try to keep away from major character development plots since I don't know what has been revealed about Connie- or Daryl, for that matter. I was try and fit my stories into the over-arching plot throughout the show.  
> Also, I’m not deaf and have only distant friends who are so I tried to step into a deaf person’s shoes and see things through their eyes. I hope it came across okay and makes sense.  
> It’s hard for me to write without relying  
> on sound! I never realized how much I rely on it till now. It was a fun challenge 
> 
> Please take the time to review at the end! I love hearing from people!
> 
> Thank you again for the prompt, kindesswithpeopletreat! I enjoyed taking a break from my book to write this! 
> 
> Please review!! Nothing feeds a writers soul like hot chocolate and reviews!


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